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Living Music

The music hurt. The base stabbed my stomach again and again. My nerves buzzed, making my throat itch, too deep to scratch. My eyes burned with unshed tears. This was so much different than a CD or the radio. This was real. I was part of the music, the pain. At the same time, I was totally separate. I did not belong in this swarm of pounding bodies. I had no love for Dinosaur Jr. I had no idea what song they were blasting. My dad wanted me here so I tried to fit in with my green high top converse and faded blue jeans but the fact is I didn’t know Dinosaur Jr. like they did. I had never heard them before.

The floor bounced in rhythm with the music. A nauseating effect. We went up, up, up and then gravity brought us down as one dancing beast. My dad pressed closer, hungry, like the rest of the crowd, for the band: Gandalf, Sam and Gollum. I did not know their real names but oddly the trio resembled characters from The Lord of the Rings. In my mind they were magical; these three creatures up on stage making music that stung me; that with each throb of the base sent my heart into my throat.

The song ended. I could breathe again. Gandalf wiped his long white hair from his shiny face. He took a sip from the plastic water bottle next to his microphone. Now that the music was temporarily gone there were loud cheers, requests, and earplug induced shouting. The music, which had wrapped me so tightly, let me go and I was able to look at the hall.

My gazed wandered up to the balcony with its velvet red chairs. I envied the people who occupied those chairs; my legs ached after only standing for about ten minutes. My dad had planned everything perfectly; we entered through the large double doors just as Dinosaur Jr. began their first song; so at least I didn’t have to stand through the opening bands.

There was a roped off section for the 21 plus crowd. In this section they had chairs and the only visible stairs to the balcony. Did whoever designed this place think minors had the ability to stand forever? I wondered.

My dad pushed his way back through the crowd towards me, lingering on the out skirts of the mass of fans. He smiled and led me to a bench on the side I hadn’t noticed. Oh sweet oasis!

The next song began. The pounding. The beauty. The reality. And I realized that this was it: my first concert. I loved the way it hurt, the way it filled me up so that I was so close to bursting. I loved music, I loved Dinosaur Jr. I loved this moment. My dad put his mouth by my ear and shouted: “Now, try listening without the earplugs!”




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MorenSore said...
Aug. 12, 2011 at 7:02 pm:
That was great, i love how you brought the idea of music having feelings it portrays to you is one every body knows. but nobody places those emotions  into words in a story. I usually put my own philosophies into a story, and unless i am mistaken that is what you did.
 
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Rose12 said...
Jan. 20, 2010 at 7:45 pm:
amazing writing! very funny! keep up the great work!
 
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